The Perfect Fit
by NightAtTheRoses
Summary: When things don't end up as she planned after the war, Hermione decides to stir things up with a whole new attitude.
1. Chapter 1

The Perfect Fit.

Hermione Granger was always the perfect student, best friend, and stepford wife. But what happens when she finds that her marriage was a joke, and things aren't as simple as they were back in Hogwarts?

I should have known. I should have known he would let it go to his head. He wasn't like Harry. He was always the youngest brother, the one always over looked. I knew he didn't like that I was the sensible one, the 'one who wears the pants'. But im getting ahead of myself aren't I? Well you obviously know who I am, and whom I'm speaking about. But you don't know the situation do you? Well, I guess it started with the butterbeer.

He didn't believe me when I told him butterbeer has an alcohol percentage. He'd shrug me off, tell me to stop being so prissy. Well when we were finally legal, he began drinking Firewhiskey, then Snakebites, and then mixtures of the hardest alcohols. I knew he had a problem, but I figured he had it under control. Love is _definitely _blind.

His other problem was that he was the youngest boy in a family of 9. As if he wasn't already constantly overlooked, the others were always getting into trouble, or achieving something on the grand scale that Ron could never live up to. Even going to Hogwarts, with it's 3000 student population, he was always know as someone's little brother, or Harry Potters friend. He was never really just Ron.

So when we won the battle, and we became war legends, he was finally somebody. People were finally referring to things as Ron's. Ron's favorite team, Ron's family, Ron's opinion. He felt like a star. And when he proposed to me, he did it in the most public way possible. At a press conference on primetime Wizard Wireless. I should have known there was something off there.

We didn't know how to handle the sudden fame. Suddenly the fan base that Harry alone had had to deal with all these years stretched to accommodate Ron and I as well. Harry kept his head on straight, I knew that it didn't matter, but Ron suddenly had more attention than he knew what to do with. There were girls everywhere, favors being thrown left and right. An often-neglected child didn't stand a chance.

Well skipping over all the details, two months ago, I found Ron in one of the guest rooms with two women in bed. Needless to say, I dropped him like a bad habit.

Now, I am on my own. I have my own condo in the heart of London, which I pay for by modeling. That's right. I model hybrid fashions of the wizarding world influenced by the muggle world. While with the amount of money given to me for being in the war, I don't have to work for the next ten years; I like to say I'm doing something. And why aren't I working at some huge firm in the industry? Because... well... I don't really want to. I don't have the same ideas and morals as I did in Hogwarts. I've decided to change my life completely. If Ron can do it, why can't I?


	2. Chapter 2

"Come on see the blinding, it's the blinding..." I focused on keeping one foot in front of the other while maintaining my posture. I approached the end of the catwalk, posed twice and turned back around. When I reached the dressing room, I immediately stripped down and started with my next outfit. There were only four girls ahead of me, and I had to figure out how exactly this was supposed to fit. I glanced frantically around for an intern to help me. The girl took it, helped me into it and I ran to getting line behind one of the American models, my friend Anna Bee. "God, you think she could make the heels any higher?" she moaned. "I bloody well think so. Did you see the pink pair she has on the rack for her main model. She's gonna need a bloody hover charm to keep her up!" Anna smiled and shook her head. Just as she was about to go on, she whispered, "God, I could use a key." We shared a smirk and she gracefully strut down the walk. I myself have never tried blow, but alot of the other models have. I've never felt the need to get high to model, it's enough of a high with all the people flashing pictures. Though, sometimes, I wonder just how long I have until the high wears off. And I know it will, it's just a matter of when?

I was tired and aching after the show. I stifled a yawn and hailed an intern. "Yes ?" I ruffled through my clutch for a cigarette. "Get me a limo, or a cab. Better yet, a limo taxi. Quickly." The girl scampered off, and I stuck the cigarette back into my clutch. It was so much easier to be rude to people these days than to be nice to them. I rubbed my arms while I waited, trying to erase the goosebumps that had risen up. I wondered what it was about, when I turned around to see the lead singer of the band that was performing eying me. I smirked at him and turned around. Poor bugger was probably too blown to know where his eyes are landing.

The intern came back two minutes later. "Your limo taxi is waiting." She said in a tone that reminded me of my old self. I gave her a once over and she visibly stiffened. "Right. What's your name?" I asked. I pulled out the cigarette i had stashed before and she immediately pulled out a lighter.

"Catherine. Mam, my name is Catherine." She said it as though she wasn't sure I was coherent enough to understand once.

"Catherine," I said, as though rolling it on my tongue. "Hmm, that's too simple. What's your favourite color Catherine?"

"At the moment, Violet."

"Good. Then I shall call you Vi. I'll be asking for you, have no doubt about that." her face lit up as though I'd brought her Christmas early.

"Yes mam, of course." The chauffeur opened my door and I slid gracefully into the vehicle.

"Until then, Vi!" and the chauffeur pulled away from the curb. How is it chauffeurs always know when to pull away from a scene? I didn't think anymore of it, and simply relaxed into the seats as the car took off into the dark sky.

It's strange, the feeling of a flying car. There's nothing to compare it to, because theres nothing like it. But it was in the back of this car that I let it all go. The bitchy facade, the superficial persona and the flighty party girl character, and became me. I cleaned my face with a quick wave and transfigured the tiny sequined minidress into sweats. I sat and stared out the window, occasionally looking at my reflection and sighing. I was so... plain. And not in a good way. That's how I chose the profession I'm in now. after Ron left, I'd sat down and took a very critical eye to myself and found I was simply too plain. And what better way to break that than modeling?

When we arrived at my house, I said a quick goodnight to my driver and apparated upstairs. The loud crack was made even more so within the ominous silence of the house. Crookshanks who seemed to be waiting for me gave a visible start when I appeared then calmed back down. "Silly cat," I muttered bending down to scoop him up. I stepped into my bedroom and shut the door. I re transfigured the dress and put it into the closet, then climbed into bed and turned off the lights. Crookshanks settled in behind me and commenced purring and I fell asleep to the sound of my cat purring.


	3. Chapter 3

I looked down at my luggage and compressed it into my purse, keeping my passport in my pocket just in case they tried to stop me. For the next month, I was to live in New York, where I might add, I know absolutely no one. The idea sent a slight shiver of delight down my spine. Complete anonymity is something I've always dreamt of having, but too afraid to pursue.

"Ms Granger?" I was pulled from my trance by the sound of my house elf Gigi.

"Yes, I'm ready." I smiled at her and went to the designated apparating point of my house. And before you get on my case about the elf, I often force her to take sick leaves and what not so bugger off.

I stood in the portal and counted down the seconds.

3....

2...

1...

Immediately I was thrown into a greatly uncomfortable vortex, feeling as though I was being squeezed through time itself. I almost wished that they would pull me over simply for a minor break from this uncomfortable hold. But I knew it wouldn't happen. I'm Hermoine bloody Granger, and I might as well have not brought my passport or any form of ID with me. But try as I might, I can't repress all of my Hermoine-isms. Just as the feeling was becoming unbearable, I saw my exit coming. A moment later I was hurled onto the platform of the landing spot in New York. I stumbled to a halt, nearly tripping over my luggage. When I straightened out, I looked up and jumped actually tripping over the suitcase this time. A hand reached out and helped me out. I took it and looked into the greyest eyes I've ever seen. "Welcome to New York." He announced with a broad smile.

I blinked and immediately turned off. "Thanks soo much. Who's the dolt that put the luggage where I could trip over it? Do things work backwards over here?" I knew it wasn't particularly fair to the man, but I was so thrown by his eyes that staying normal was impossible.

"That tool would be me. I'm sorry about that, I just didn't expect you to be hurled so far out. I suppose you're a lot lighter than it's used to." He said this with a strange gleam in his eye and I felt as though I was missing a joke.

"Then I suppose you're used to throwing elephants. Well, no matter. Show me where I'll be staying... what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't say. Follow me Granger." I huffed and magicked my luggage to follow me. The moment I stepped out of the room though, they fell flat.

"You!" he turned casually, his hands in his pockets with an eyebrow raised.

"Why isn't my magic working?" I was haughty and irritable.

"Because there are muggles here that don't know about magic and we'd like to keep it that way."

"Well how am I supposed to get my luggage then?"

He rolled his eyes and turned. "Carry it. Or roll it. There are wheels for a reason." And he strode off very quickly.

Why that little... I growled and hiked my luggage together. I glanced at the offending pile and grinned. He wasn't going to win this.

When I caught up with him, he was at a bank of elevators. "How nice of you to join me."

"Can't say I feel the same way." I said rolling to a stop. He glanced back at me then did a double take.

"Where are all of your bags?"

I tapped my nose. "You're aware I'm famous for more than my looks of course?"

He simply shook his head. "So I'm told..." and the doors opened to reveal five people shifting to make space. I waltzed in and turned around to see him glaring into the cart. "Coming?"

He grumbled and stepped in, jabbing harshly at the close button. I glanced to my right and started. "Cho?"

She turned and grinned. "Oh my... Hermione Granger? It's been forever! I didn't know you were coming across the pond! How are you?" she hugged me tightly and I awkwardly put one arm into it. Cho was one if the biggest names in the fashion biz right now. She was the ethnic splash in a lot of shows, except for the ones Angelina was in. Angelina was even bigger than Cho and I put together.

"So I assume you've just arrived then if you're here, and with Mr. Mal-"

"We're getting off now." interrupted my 'chaperon'.

"Oh, alright then, I'll leave you to it. Bye now!" and she gave me another hug as I stepped off. I followed him towards a glass entrance and onto the street.

My first impression of New York is that it's really quite overpopulated. The sidewalk is about a mile wide with people and food stands. Getting to the roadside for a taxi was jostling and within seconds, I gave up on saying 'excuse me'. The second he put his hand up, a bright yellow car flew towards the sidewalk and an east indian man unlocked the doors. I opened the door and got in, sliding over so he could get in as well. "The Hilton." He said indifferently and looked out the window.

"Is that where I'll be staying?"I asked.

"Yes. you'll be staying with two other models in the penthouse." I wondered how many times he'd had to say that before.

"Lovely." I looked out the window for the rest of the trip.

When people say New York is a place of dreams.... it must be completely beneath the surface. It's filthy, over populated and loud."Is it always this loud and busy?" I said, forgetting who I was with.

I swear I could _hear_ his eyes roll. He didn't even reply as the taxi driver pulled up to the hotel. We stepped out onto the sidewalk and he made a clear path through the crowd while I, once again shuffled and edged my way through to the door.

When I entered, he was speaking with the concierge and I stood back, feeling like a child waiting for their parents. After a few minutes he turned and signaled for me to follow him. Once again in an elevator, he began briefing me in hushed undertones. "Before we enter the room, you might want to unshrink your luggage. One of your roommates is a muggle and she doesn't know about magic. We'd like to keep it that way."

I nodded. "Do you know when I'll have my first show?"

He turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "Why would I know that?"

When I shrugged he let out an exaggerated breath and muttered something like "babysitting..."

I was shocked by his rudeness but decided to keep quiet and silently willed the elevator to move faster. The faster I got to the hotel room, the faster I'd be rid of his miserable presence.


End file.
